Wrong Number
by Maple Tales
Summary: "It started as a simple coincidence. Neither of us expected that call to change our lives" A story of tears, laughter, friendship and love. PruCan / Rated T
1. Prologue: Soap Bubbles

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**I know there are several stories like this one online. But I just had to write it. My first Fanfiction.**

**Based on a true story.**

Prolog:

_When my brother and I were younger we always dreamt the same. We dreamt of flying. We dreamt of using our arms like wings to fly up into the sky. And as the world below us grew smaller we felt free and really alive._

He couldn't remember the dream but it left him wide awake and with tears in his eyes. Trying to calm his racing heart he looked around the dark room. All the shapes looked different and unfamiliar in the darkness. Even though he couldn't remember the dream he knew that it had been one of those nightmares that had woken him up. They came more often now that his brother had left.

_We were always together, even in our dreams. But things changed when dad left. Mom and Al started to have arguments every other day. Most of the time they didn't even realize that I could still hear them. And suddenly I didn't dream of flying anymore._

He just couldn't calm down, knowing that the horrible pictures that haunted him almost every night were only waiting for him to close his eyes, knowing that he wouldn't fall asleep anytime soon. Matthew sighed and got up. He put on a jacket and grabbed his keys. Quietly he opened his door and waited for a few moments for footsteps or the sound of another door being opened, but nothing happened. Careful not to wake his mother he moved through the dark apartment and left.

_In our dreams I watched Al fly away, but I was stuck on the ground. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get off the ground. No matter how loud I called for him Al couldn't hear me. All I could do was watch my brother leave me behind._

With his heart still racing and tears stinging in his eyes Matthew went up the stairs. His hands were shaking as he laid one on the handle of the door to the rooftop. He took a deep breath and opened the door. It squeaked loudly. The noise sounded like a pained scream. Matthew stepped outside and the November night air welcomed him in a cold embrace. On shaky legs he went to the edge of the roof and sat down.

_Al still dreamed of both of us being able to fly so I didn't tell him. It had been his dream to begin with. The arguments between mom and Al got worse. And when he had enough he left to study in another city. I couldn't help but wonder if my dreams had tried to tell me about that._

Violet eyes watched a few soap bubbles fly into the night sky. They shimmered in thousands of colors in the lights of the city. Whenever the wind blew a bubble down to the street the few people who were still outside looked up in confusion. They didn't expect to see soap bubbles in November after all. Each time someone saw one of his bubbles Matthew felt as if people could see him for once.

_When he left I stopped dreaming of anything. Soon after mom had an accident and had to go to the hospital. I remember feeling so lost when I was told she was in a coma. I visited her as often as I could and had to take care of the apartment and study for school. It was too much…_

A faint smile graced his features. Each new bubble floating in the cold night air made him feel a little less afraid, a little less sad. It was a bit childish but they always made him feel safer…They reminded him of happier days. Days of sunshine and laughter, of when he still had a real family. Before his father left and the arguments began. Before Al left and his mother had to go to the hospital. Before there was really no one left to see him…

_Mom had hit her head on the pavement pretty hard. When she finally woke up she couldn't remember everything. I felt nervous when the doctor told me, but I thought it wouldn't be so bad. I thought she would get better. When she asked me "Who are you?" I felt the world shatter around me…_

Before all of this there were the brothers Alfred and Matthew and hundreds of soap bubbles glittering in the warm summer air. There were their parents watching the siblings play in the garden. And there was the promise to keep each other safe. So whenever Matthew saw a bubble he felt a little better even though is brother wasn't around to protect him.

_That day I started to dream again. I dreamt of falling. It was dark and cold and I couldn't even scream. Even though I could hear the voices of mom, dad and Al I couldn't call for help. Even though I could see them glowing faintly in the dark, they couldn't see me. Alone in the dark. Mute and invisible._

But there were still tears lingering in his eyes threatening to spill over. Sitting on the edge of the roof Matthew watched the city below him, the lights, cars and people. He sighed and laid back on the roof, legs still dangling over the edge. Violet eyes looked up to the sky. And probably the stars were looking back at him but the bright lights of the city made it impossible to see them. But maybe the stars were looking through him just like everyone else did. A first tear rolled down his cheek.

_The nightmares returned almost every night. I woke up crying or screaming, desperately trying to forget the pictures. But even when I wasn't dreaming I became more and more invisible. People started to look through me, mom still couldn't remember me. _

Wasn't it always like that? Didn't everyone look right through him as if he wasn't even there? Didn't everyone forget about him? He could be in a room with other for ours without them noticing he was there. After all he was invisible, wasn't he?

_I guess that was when the first cuts on my wrist appeared. I felt like everything I ever believed was falling apart. I couldn't take it anymore. And pain made me feel alive, feel _something_ apart from being hollow. I don't even now anymore how often I stood on the rooftop screaming for help. But no one ever listened._

Cold fingers wiped away the tears and Matthew sat up again. Everything was blurry as he looked down. All the light and sounds were one bright mess. His fingers were shaking as he picked up the bottle with the soap for the bubbles again. He couldn't even feel the cold anymore. He was used to it by now. Sitting on the roof, watching soap bubbles and shaking in the night wind…it took him to a different world for a while when it all became too much…

_I tried everything to make others notice me. I even joined the school photography club. But nothing ever worked… You know, sometimes I ask myself why I'm even still here…_


	2. 1 Flying and Falling

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed this story. I promise that I'll update more frequently from now on!**

**Chapter 1: Flying and Falling **

Raindrops were tapping against the window. The world outside was coloured grey by dark clouds and heavy rain. The radio was playing in the living room but the music was barely audible over the sound of the rain.

Matthew leaned his head against the cold glass. The raindrops painted small shadows on his face as he watched the world outside. Cars were racing through the streets and the lights of the city were hazy because of the rain. He didn't know what time it was but he was sure that it was still way too early to be awake. He hadn't be able to sleep for more than a few hours last night.

He blinked and his eyes fell on his mirror image on the glass. Bloodshot violet eyes were looking back at him. The dark shadows underneath them made his skin look even paler. He looked…older. Tired and somehow different. It was almost like there was a stranger in the glass. He barely recognized himself.

Matthew sighed and slid off the windowsill. He ran a hand through his blond hair and left the small kitchen. His footsteps and the sound of the falling ain were the only sounds in the quiet apartment as he walked through the hallway and into his room. The room was small and inexpressively. The walls were still white, since Matthew hadn't had the time to paint them after his mother's accident. The unopened cans filled with red paint still stood beside the door. Underneath the big window was a desk with a laptop and some school books on it and on the other side of the room were the bed and a wardrobe. Underneath the bed, half hidden in its shadow, were a small black camera and a pile of photo books. It was cold inside the room – the heating hadn't been working for quite a while now. The room looked…empty. Sure, there were those few pieces of furniture but it didn't really look like anyone was living here. There were hardly any personal belongings to be seen. No pictures on the walls, nothing laying around that showed who lives here. Nothing but a small black camera and a pile of photo books half hidden beneath the bed.

Matthew opened his wardrobe. Since he couldn't get any more sleep he could at least get ready for school. Having something to do would probably chase away his gloomy thoughts for a while. Most of the clothes in the closet were red. A bitter smile found its way onto the boy's lips. His brother had suggested wearing bright coloured clothes to make him less invisible. So far it hadn't worked. But Matthew still kept wearing red. Somewhere is the back of his mind he probably still held on to the small sliver of hope that red would make him visible to others. That red would save him.

He pulled an old pair of jeans and a red hoody out of the closet and threw a fleeting glance into the mirror on the inside of the closet door. The clothes slipped out of his hands. Matthew stumbled a step back, his eyes wide with surprise and fright. The mirror was empty. He wasn't…there.

The sound of the kettle ripped Matthew out of his restless sleep. Startled he almost fell of the slim windowsill and hit his head against the glass. Confused he looked around. He was still in the kitchen, the rain outside had stopped and his wristwatch showed that it was six forty a.m. He must have fallen asleep.

Matthew got up, took the kettle off the stove and poured some boiling water into his mother's favourite tea cup. Then he put the cup onto a tablet to the rest of the breakfast he'd prepared for his mother. In the past…before her accident, they'd always eaten together to spend some time together before he went to school and she to work. But since she'd been released from the hospital she hardly even left her room. If Matthew wouldn't take care of it she probably wouldn't even eat at all.

He shook his head to get rid of those dark thoughts and carried the tablet out of the kitchen and through the hallway. Carefully he placed it next to her room door and knocked twice. "Mom? I've made you some breakfast." He opened her door a bit to let some light into the room.

"Thank you, dear." A quiet voice replied. Matthew closed his eyes in relief. Every morning he feared that she wouldn't answer anymore. That she wouldn't be…_there_ anymore.

He pushed this thought aside as well and went into his room to fetch his things.

With his red bag in one hand his house keys in the other he was ready to leave, but at the door he hesitated. He bit his lip and walked over to the closet. Slowly he opened its door and looked into the mirror. He sighed, a small smile on his lips. He was pale and his eyes were red from the lack of sleep but Matthew Williams was still there!

He closed the door, now feeling a little childish for checking, and left the room. He called "See you later, mom" over his shoulder then he left the apartment and the building.

The air outside was icy and still smelled like rain. A sharp wind was blowing and made it even colder. Matthew buried his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket to keep them warm and started walking towards the bus stop. Normally he walked to school since it wasn't more than half an hour away but the sky looked like it could start to rain again any moment and he didn't want to get caught in it.

There were already a few other students waiting when he arrived at the bus stop. Matthew smiled a bit. When he was the only on waiting the bus tended to drive right past him because the divers couldn't see him. Matthew leaned against the bus sign and watched a group of younger boy laugh about something one of them had said. He had given up on trying to take part in a conversation with the other students here long ago but he liked to watch them and imagine what it would be like to have friends like that. A lot less lonesome he figured.

The bus was late again – it almost always was – and there was hardly any space for new passengers in it. Matthew managed to squeeze himself inside and through the crowd of students and found a place at the door. He leaned against the closed door behind him and bit his lip. He hated taking the bus to school. There were too many people, too many voice inside of too little space. He felt like he was drowning in the crowd. He always tried to stay close to the doors so he wouldn't be run over or squeezed to death by the others. Others who could not see him.

With a small sigh he turned around to look out of the window and tried to block out the other passengers. Behind his faint reflection in the glass he could see the world outside waking up. There was a bald man who was putting up signs about special prizes in front of the supermarket at the corner; a woman was jogging through the sleepy city, her black dog following her; there was a young woman kissing her child goodbye in front of the small nursery school. Matthew let his eyes slip closed. It had been so long since his mother had done something like that. He was still wishing that one day he'd just wake up and everything would be the way it had been before.

But wishing didn't really work.

It never did.

When the bus finally arrived at the school – after what had felt like an eternity – they were almost half an hour too late. As he walked over to the school building Matthew wondered whether anyone had even noticed that he wasn't there yet. Probably not.

The hallway was quiet and empty. The footsteps of the late students seemed to echo through the whole building. When he'd reached his classroom Matthew could hear the loud voice of his history teacher through the closed door. He knocked then entered the room. For a second all eyes were on him. For a moment he was visible. Then his classmates turned away and his teacher frowned in confusion. "Yes? What is it?"

"I'm sorry for being late. My bus was delayed." Matthew answered.

"Okay…Mathis. Take your seat."

Matthew didn't bother to correct the man. He would just forget the name anyway.

They all did.

Always.

He walked to the back of the room and sat down by the window. He should have just stayed home…

The hours went by agonizingly slow. By the time the last lesson started Matthew was ready to fall asleep in his chair. It had started to rain again and he was watching the raindrops chase each other on the window.

So far the day had been like any other day. Routine.

Wake up. Take a Shower. Eat. Prepare breakfast for his mother. Go to school. Study. Eat. Study. Go home. Prepare dinner for his mother. Sleep. And repeat. And all of it without being really seen by anyone beside his mother – who had a hard time even remembering his name. Every day was like that. Every day was the same.

And he was so tired of it. Tired of walking through life like a…zombie. Tired of being invisible, forgotten and of being trapped in that never changing routine.

Every day he hoped that something – _anything_ – would change. But nothing ever did.

Every day he hoped that someone – _anyone_ – would see him. But no one ever did.

And every day he felt like he was dying a little more inside.

Matthew sighed and tried to push the dark thoughts away. He always tried that. But they always stayed, hidden in a dark corner of his mind, waiting for a chance to return when he let his guard down.

He tried to focus on the lesson, on what the teacher was saying, but his thoughts kept drifting off. He had a hard time concentrating on anything lately. Even taking photos was an impossible task – and that used to be his life. He smiled sadly. What should he take pictures of anyway? The world had lost its colours in his eyes. It had gone gray. The only photos he was taking nowadays were the ones for the school's photo club. But those were nothing like the ones he used to take. They held no emotional value.

Eventually the teacher took a look at the clock above the blackboard, sighed and dismissed the class. Matthew packed his books into his bag and followed his classmates out of the room. Now the hallway was crowded with students rushing to their lockers and the exit, all of them eager to get home.

Matthew wasn't sure if he was all that eager himself. There had been a time when he couldn't wait to get home. Then he hadn't wanted to leave school because there would be no one waiting for him in the apartment. And now… He didn't really like school anymore but the apartment – _always cold, always dark, always silent _– no longer felt like home either. It hadn't since the accident. But he couldn't just leave. His mother needed him! Until she got back on her feet she needed someone to take care of her and…and. . .

Who was he even trying to fool here? He couldn't even take care of _himself_! He was trying so hard to bury all of it underneath a smile and lies – mostly lies he told himself to keep going – but on the inside he was still falling apart. He was no help to his mother. Not really. Hell, he wasn't even able to face her! He couldn't give her the comfort and support she needed right now. He wasn't able to help _anyone_…

Matthew put a few books into his locker and took out those he would need over the weekend. It was Friday so at least he wouldn't have to deal with teachers and classmates who had forgotten about him for the next two days. But that didn't really cheer him up. Weekends were nothing but sad nowadays. And he had no distraction from the darkness in his mind…or his mother. Of course he could always go outside but he would be just as lonely there. And just as lost. It didn't matter.

He closed the locker and walked to the exit. Most students had left by now and it was easier to get through the hallway without being run over. Outside he silently cursed himself for forgetting his umbrella. He pulled his hood over his head, wrapped his red jacket tighter around himself and started walking towards the bus stop. The parking lot and bus stop weren't too far from the school, hardly two minutes of walking, but he was still dripping wet by the time he got there. And he was greeted by the sight of the school bus driving away.

"Come on. Seriously?" Matthew mumbled and buried his hands in his pockets. Only that one bus drove into the direction of his home. Normally he liked walking home better anyway but today… He tipped his head back and looked up at the dark sky. It didn't look like it was going to stop raining anytime soon.

The boy closed his eyes for a second then he started walking. After only a few meters he was already soaking wet. His clothes got heavy from the water and stuck to im like a second skin. His hair was plastered to his head and kept falling into his eyes. It was cold. The raindrops felt like needles on his skin and the icy November wind made it even worse.

Never the less a bitter smile found its way onto his lips. Maybe his books would get damaged by the water and the school would finally realize that there really was a student called Matthew Williams. Maybe they would finally realize that he wasn't just a mistake in their database.

By the time Matthew finally reached the building he lived in he was shaking like a leaf and felt miserable. With trembling hands he fished his keys out of his bag and unlocked the front door. While he walked up the stairs to the third floor he wondered if anyone would notice if he got really sick and couldn't go to school on Monday. Probably not…

He almost felt relieved as he entered the gloomy twilight in the hallway of their apartment. It had been a while since he'd last been 'happy' to be here…and he was pretty sure that the feeling wouldn't last long.

He ignored the trail of wet footsteps he left behind and went into his room. The empty white walls held no comfort and it seemed colder than usual. Matthew put his bag in a corner of the room, fetched some dry clothes and made his way to the bathroom. As he passed his mother's bedroom door he hesitated for a second. Then he knocked twice. "I'm home."

He could hear something rustle inside – maybe the blanket of her bed, maybe the blue curtains in front of her window – and quiet footsteps. "Welcome home, dear. I didn't even hear you come back."

"Sorry if I startled you. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks."

Matthew closed his eyes. It was all part of the routine. Coming home, asking how she was feeling,…

She always gave the same answer but Matthew knew she was lying. If she'd be fine – not scared of a world she couldn't remember, not feeling guilty for forgetting – she wouldn't be hiding in her room. She was anything but fine.

When she said nothing else – she never did – he went into the bathroom, put his soaking wet clothes into the washing machine and turned the shower on as hot as possible. Steam quickly filled the small bathroom and fogged up the mirror and the only window.

Matthew felt numb. Cold. Somehow…detached from his body. Like he had no control over any of this. Over his _life_.

He frowned. It was just like that, wasn't it? He had no real control. He was just following the same routine every day. Over and over again. And no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't break out of it.

He stepped into the shower and winced when the hot water hit his cold skin. For a while he just stood there, not moving, just letting the water wash away the day. He still felt cold. Cold and empty. A little bit…broken. Maybe that was what he was. Broken…

And there they were again. The dark thoughts he was trying to push away. Matthew tried to ignore them. He told himself that he wasn't broken – maybe a little bit cracked at the edges but not _broken_. That he didn't need to be fixed. But… he couldn't deny how much it hurt to be invisible all the time. To be forgotten by the world. Every time someone saw through him he felt like he was dying inside…

He stood in the shower until the water went cold before he finally got out. If possible he felt even colder than before.

He put on the dry change of clothes and went back into his room. He collapsed onto the bed, closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing, while his still wet hair soaked the pillow.

The day went by like any other. Nothing happened. Nothing ever did.

The rain had stopped during the evening and most clouds were gone a few hours later. It was a quiet night… but Matthew couldn't find any rest in it. He was tossing and turning in his bed, lost in another nightmare.

He woke with a scream on his lips. For a moment he couldn't tell where he was. He could still feel himself falling. As the pictures of the nightmare faded and reality crashed down on him Matthew felt like the darkness was trying to suffocate him. He sat up and switched on the light. It was too bright, hurt his eyes and didn't give him any comfort.

Desperately he tried to calm his racing heart as he gasped for breath. He felt lightheaded and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Damn… Matthew ran a hand through his fair and closed his eyes tight. He hadn't dreamt of flying for so long… and normally his nightmares weren't this vivid. Normally he couldn't even remember them clearly after waking up. But this time… He could still feel the wind around him and the shock of suddenly losing the ability to fly and falling into the darkness below.

He bit his lip. Hard enough to draw blood. The pictures just wouldn't go away. They brought back everything he had been trying to ignore and forget. Every sad memory, every dark thought, every wish for all of it to end.

Slowly he got up, put on a red jacket and took his keys and the bottle of soap bubble-soap hidden in his closet. He didn't even think about putting on shoes or warmer clothes. He just _needed_ to get out of here. It felt like the walls were closing in on him…

Quietly he sneaked out of the apartment and up the stairs to the rooftop. How often had he been on the roof to get rid of his fear and pain? Had it ever really worked?

The night was clear and freezing cold. It almost hurt to breathe in the icy air and Matthew was shaking as soon as he stepped outside. But he didn't even notice any of it. The wind reminded him too much of his dream.

He barely made it across the roof and to the edge before his shaking legs gave out beneath him. Pain shot through them as his knees hit the ground. But he didn't feel that either. The pain was nothing compared to how he felt inside.

The city below seemed to have fallen asleep. The sky above was illuminated by innumerable many stars. Matthew managed to uncap the bottle with the soap mix and tried to make the first soap bubbles but the wind immediately let them burst. His hands were shaking so badly by now that he could hardly hold the bottle anymore. After a few tries a single bubble made it. Shimmering in faint blue and green it drifted towards the stars.

For the first time in years the soap bubbles did nothing to ease his pain.

He bit his lip.

It hurt. After everything that had happened there was nothing left to feel but pain and fear. The soap bubbles didn't help. They burst without taking his pain with them. Red didn't help. It didn't cure his invisibility.

"Please" he whispered, looking up at the lonely soap bubble floating in the night air. "Take me with you." The bubble burst. A tear rolled down his cheek. He was so sick of crying…

With shaking legs he got up. The cold wind played with his hair and caressed his face. Violet eyes slipped closed. He was so tired of it all. Of the pain, the fear the nightmares and of being invisible and forgotten all the time. He wanted to fly again. He wanted to _feel_ again. Feel alive, happy, safe, _anything_ but hurt and scared.

He opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look up at the stars. They seemed to be farther away than ever. So far out of his reach…

_"They look so close!" Matthew whispered smiling up at the stars. "Like we could just reach up and take one!"_

_Alfred grinned. "Of course we can!"_

_They were lying on a blanket in the garden of their family's small house. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky and the stars were twinkling far above he two brothers._

_Al lifted a hand and reached out for the sky. "One day I'll fly all the way up there." He closed his hand as if wrapping his fingers around a star "And then I'll come back and bring you a star."_

_His very own star…? Matthew smiled and turned his head to look at his brother. He could see the reflection of the starry sky in Al's glasses. "But you can't just take a star. There would be a hole in the sky!"_

_Alfred laughed. "Then I'd just fill that hole with something. I'm sure I'd come up with something. I'm the hero after all!"_

Who would remember someone invisible? Who would miss someone like that? Wouldn't the world just keep turning and everyone else would live happily ever after if he wasn't there anymore tomorrow? Why should he stay stuck on the ground when he could learn to fly again?

Slowly he spread his arms like wings and made a small step forward. He could feel the edge of the roof beneath his feet. Only a few centimeters separated him from falling. Flying and falling weren't that different, right? A faint smile found its way onto his lips. He could feel his heart racing as he closed his eyes to let the wind decide in which direction it should push him.

Suddenly a loud noise ripped through the silence. Matthew flinched and almost lost his balance but he caught himself before he could fall. Breathing heavily he looked around. It took him a moment to realize what the sound was. The ringtone of his cellphone.

He pulled the phone out of the jacket's pocket and frowned. He couldn't even remember putting it in there. No one _ever_ called him. Even Al hardly texted him anymore.

'Maybe someone remembers me after all…?' He thought. Holding onto that faint sliver of hope he answered the call. "H-Hello?" His voice was shaking with tears and he could hardly hear himself speaking.

Only silence answered him.

Had he been talking to quiet? Had the other already hung up? Had…

"Who's there?" A voice asked.

Matthew didn't recognize the voice and…you don't ask the person you want to call 'who's there'… "Matthew Williams"

"Oh!" An awkward laugh followed. "Sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number!"

The wrong number…? That was it? Matthew felt something inside of hm shatter. Maybe it was the small rest of his hope. "O-Oh, okay. I s-see."

"Right. Bye." The line went dead.

"Bye…" Matthew whispered to no one. So the last person he would ever talk to was a stranger who had dialed the wrong number. That was just…sad.

He cursed quietly. He had almost dared to _hope_ again when he had heard the phone ring. Shouldn't he have known better by now?

A lonely tear slid down his face and fell towards the street below. Matthew followed it with his eyes. He had to think of all those dreams of flying. Of every soap bubble floating into the night sky with a piece of his pain. Would he be like them? Would he fly into the night to never return, leaving everything that kept him stuck on the ground behind?

"Well…" He whispered. "Time to find out."

For the second night this night the sound of his ringing cellphone cut through the quiet of the night. Matthew bit his lip. _Again?_ Was it the wrong number or a real call this time? Would it make any difference…? Well…it certainly couldn't hurt to at least look at the number, right?

It was the same one as before. So it wasn't someone who remembered him after all… A tear hit the display.

Matthew couldn't really tell what made him answer the call. Maybe it was a small part of him that was still clinging onto the hope that the call could change something. Maybe it was something else. He couldn't really tell, as he picked up and asked "Hello?" for a second time.

"Is that you again?" It was the some voice.

Matthew bit down a bitter laugh. "Still the wrong number."

"I know" There was something different in the others voice. Was it uncertainty? "Tell me, why are you crying?"


	3. 2 Sound and Silence

**Chapter 2: Sound and Silence**

His heart skipped a beat. For a second it felt like everything had stopped. No colours, no light, no sounds, no wind, no cold. Just that one question echoing through his mind.

"_Tell me, why are you crying?"_

There was really someone who cared to ask? Someone who noticed…

But… _why_? No one _ever_ noticed him - whether he was crying or not. _Never ever_. Why would some stranger on the phone notice? Why would he _care_?

The world started turning again.

"I'm...I'm not." It didn't sound believable, even to his own ears. The words were barely more than a shaky whisper. "A-And even if I was – why would I talk about it with you of all people, _stranger_."

"Because I asked?" The voice answered hesitantly.

Matthew blinked in surprise. "That's it? Because you asked?" He tried to sound harsh or annoyed but the way his voice was breaking betrayed him.

"I know. Sorry. And I know that this is actually none of my business...but to be honest you sound pretty miserable and… I'd like to help."

Matthew bit his lip. For the first time in years someone noticed him – and it had to be some stranger on the phone...

"So...since I don't know you and you don't know me...why don't you tell me what's wrong?" The caller offered.

Someone...actually wanted to know what was wrong with him? Someone wanted to help him?

'_A little late, don't you think_?' He thought looking down at the street far below.

"Hey, are you still there?" The voice asked after a while.

Matthew blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts. They were screaming so loud that it almost surprised him that the other hadn't heard them through the phone yet... "What?"

"I asked if you were still-"

"No! I mean..._what_? Why would you care about my problems? You don't even know me! And...why should I trust you with this? You could just go and tell anyone what I'd say to you!"

A quiet chuckle followed. "And just why would I do that? As you said: I don't know you and I think neither do my friends, so why would I tell them anything? And...telling someone will help you feel better and not knowing me will make that easier for you, I think...and I sound like a damn self-help book, but it's true."

Talk to someone who isn't involved...? That was supposed to help him? It sounded...weird? Stupid? Too good to be true? "And you would listen?" He was feeling light headed. Slowly he sat down at the edge.

"To every word you've got to say."

"But… it's kind of a long story." Matthew whispered.

"It's almost midnight anyway. So it's not like I have anything else to do. Take your time."

Matthew closed his eyes. He felt _selfish_ for bothering a stranger with his problems. He felt _confused_ for being asked about this after all this time. And he felt almost..._happy_ for finally being noticed. How long had it been since he'd last been truly happy? How long had it been since someone had last offered to listen to him?

"I...I am invisible. I know it sounds weird, but it is true. People keep seeing through me, keep forgetting about me all the time. I've tried _everything_ to make myself visible! Nothing is working. I don't know what to do…"

"What about your family? Can't they help you?"

"Family? My father left ages ago, my brother doesn't live around here anymore and my mother can't even remember _my name_ most of the time!" He wasn't even sure what he was saying. But once he had started talking he just couldn't stop anymore. So he talked about everything that had happened. About his parents, his brother, the arguments, the accident, the nightmares, the invisibility and his rooftop sanctuary. He talked until here was nothing left to say. Until he had no words left.

And the person on the other end of the line just listened. If it hadn't been for the soft sound of his breathing Matthew would have thought that the other had hung up.

And then, after everything had been said, there was deafening silence. Even the wind seemed to have quieted down. Maybe it was holding its breath so it could listen to them...

Matthew felt... empty. Like there was nothing left of him now that he had said the words he had kept bottled up inside of him for so long.

"That is... one hell of a story." The voice said slowly. "Where are you now? Outside?"

The question snapped Matthew out of his thoughts. Blinking he looked down. "I'm on the roof."

He could hear the other mutter a curse under his breath. "I see. Okay, listen. This might sound stupid to you now, but it is true. You are _not_ alone. To you it might look like you are right now, but it isn't like that. You've got that brother of yours and your mother and I'm sure they love you even if they don't show it that much. And damn, now I'm with you too! So...believe me. Things _will_ get better. Sure, life's a bitch sometimes but it won't rain forever. Really."

'_It will get better'_

Hadn't he been telling himself that everything would get better ever since this mess had started? And everything had gotten worse. So why did it sound like it could be true when this person said it? Or was he really just that desperate to believe in something again?

"Why?" Matthew whispered.

"Why what?"

Matthew bit his lip. "Why are you telling me this? Why are you trying to help me? You don't know me or anything about me! I'm just... some pathetic, selfish kid and the world's probably better off without me anyway!"

"Whoa! Stop! Are you even listening to yourself? Okay, I might not know you in person or for more than a few hours, but during that time I got a pretty good look on how you think and feel at the moment. I don't think you are selfish or pathetic at all! I mean, here you are, tearing yourself apart, 'cause you don't want to bother your family with your problems. You're trying to solve this...mess all on your own because you don't want to burden anyone else with it. You're not pathetic. You're stronger than you think. Because it must have hurt like hell to keep all of this bottled up inside of you. Anyone else, anyone less strong, would have given up long ago. But you didn't. You held on all this time. Damn it, I know what it's like to feel like nobody cares about you. It hurts – a lot. But it will get better. It always does, as long as you keep holding on. I _promise_ it will."

Matthew closed his eyes. He had been hoping to hear these words for years. "I...I don't...Don't you think I've been telling myself that? I've tried to believe that really, _really_ hard but it didn't help! I don't know what to believe anymore. I don't know what to do anymore. I just want it to stop..."

The other took a deep breath. "If you don't know what to believe in, believe in me. Okay...that sounded kinda creepy...But _anyway_, you said people always leave you? I won't! I'll help you get through this. You can trust me! After all, I'm not even a real person to you right now, right? I'm just a voice on the phone, not a person who'd leave you."

He blinked in confusion. "You...want to help me?"

"Of course! I can't just leave you like this, now that you've told me what's going on. How about this: I'll call you every evening to check up on you and you can talk to me about stuff if you need to." A quiet sigh. "And...please don't be..._gone_ by tomorrow. Don't do anything you won't be able to regret."

Matthew bit his lip. "I'll try..."

"Awesome. So, are you going to be at home tomorrow evening?"

"I guess so" Where else should he be? It wasn't like there were any friends an invisible boy could visit.

"Okay. I have to go now, my cousin woke up. So, I'll call you later?"

"Right. No, wait! What's your name?"

"...I haven't told you yet? The awesome me is called Gilbert."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. 'Awesome me…?' "Right…"

"Okay. See… talk to you later."

"Bye."

And the line went dead for a second time. All of a sudden Matthew felt terribly cold. He hadn't even noticed the cold anymore while he'd been talking to Gilbert. Carefully he got up and wrapped his arms around himself. His fingers had gone numb by now. How long had he been out here anyway? He couldn't tell. The night was still as dark and quiet as it had been when he had stepped onto the roof earlier. But somehow… the stars seemed to be closer now.

Matthew took one last look over the edge and flinched. For the first time he was scared of being so close to falling…

He shook his head and quickly went back inside. The apartment was still silent and dark and he hoped that his mother hadn't noticed that he had been out. He didn't think he would be able to explain where he had been. But then again…she hardly ever noticed anything he did nowadays.

He closed the door of his room behind himself, leaned against it and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He was so confused…

A few hours ago he had been ready to jump off the roof and how he was hoping for a complete stranger to call him again. Unconsciously he held his phone closer to his chest. A few hours ago he had given up and now he had something – _someone_ – to hold onto.

He bit his lip. He didn't know anything about this Gilbert person – _not a person, just a voice_ - but he had told him almost everything about himself… Even children knew not to talk to strangers!

But… he had wanted someone to talk to so badly. Someone to trust and rely on. Each time he had stood on the roof, each time he had tried to push the darkness in his thoughts away, each time he had tried to calm down after a nightmare… Each and every of those times he had hoped that someone – anyone – would see his pain and try to help…

Matthew ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. Maybe… just maybe things were really getting better.

After all… Gilbert had promised they would. Right?


	4. 3 White and Black

3. White and Black

Dim sunshine fell through the window, tickled his nose and slowly lured him out of a light sleep. Matthew blinked into the light, groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

Why hadn't he closed the shutters yesterday?

With a sigh he curled up under the comforter and willed himself to fall back asleep. But now that he had woken up his mind intended to stay that way.

Slowly Matthew sat up, ran a hand through his sleep tousled hair and glanced out of the window. The sky was covered with heavy grey clouds but here and there a few rays of sunlight were shining through. Matthew frowned. What time was it anyway? Usually he woke up before sunrise – not because he wanted to but because he just couldn't sleep for more than a few hours a night without having a nightmare.

He put on his glasses and checked his cell phone to look at the time. A surprised look crossed his face. Twelve a.m. He couldn't even remember the last time he had slept this long. How…?

The memories of last night crashed down on him like a tidal wave. The chill of the night, the sting of tears in his eyes…and the voice on the phone.

Matthew bit his lip. Without the desperation and fear of the night the whole conversation he and Gilbert had had seemed…unbelievable. Surreal. To think that some stranger on the phone would save his life… It sounded like the storyline of a movie. Like some messed up modern fairytale.

But there was no evil witch or dragon to be slain. Only the darkness in an invisible teen's mind. And the 'knight in shining armor' was just a guy who had dialed the wrong number at the right time. And if this was a fairy tale, would that Matthew the damsel in distress…?

The boy huffed at the thought and shook his head. He got up, wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like a cape and left the room.

The curtains in the living room had already been opened and an empty tea cup stood on the small table by the couch. A yellow post-it note with the small, curved handwriting of his mother on it lay beside it. But Matthew didn't need to read the note. On Saturday mornings his mother always went to see her psychologist and she always left a note saying 'Will be back soon, love you. Mom'

Matthew shuffled on into the small kitchen and fixed himself a cup of hot chocolate. He poured some maple syrup in and went back into his room to sit on the bed.

Looking back at it now it almost felt like he had just made the past night up. Maybe it was just the hopeful dream of a desperate mind after all…

He took a sip of his hot drink and let the sweet chocolate calm him. It couldn't only be a dream. It just couldn't! The call had been the only sliver of hope he had seen in years. He needed it to be real.

Matthew looked down at his cup. The heat was seeping through the blue mug into his cold fingers. He could see his own tired reflection in the chocolate staring back at him. He could see the doubt in his eyes.

Even if he hadn't dreamt the whole thing…what difference would it make?

What could talking to a stranger possible change?

"_I'd like to help."_

"_But it will get better. It always does, as long as you keep holding on. I promise it will."_

Even though it might not help…it was nice to know that someone out there cared.

But then again…why would this Gilbert care at all? They didn't know each other! Hell, Gilbert had just found him by chance! He had no reason to help Matthew. He had no reason to do anything for him. Perhaps this was all just a joke to him. Maybe he just thought it would be fun to pretend he cared about that pathetic little kid on the phone.

Matthew took another sip of his chocolate.

It wouldn't do any good to worry about this. His thoughts were only running in circles, getting him nowhere. And who knew, maybe Gilbert wouldn't even call again. After all, he wouldn't be the first to forget about Matthew. He wouldn't be the first to break a promise.

But…what if Gilbert really did call again?

Matthew held the cup a little tighter, biting his lip. What would he say? What was Matthew supposed to say? Was he…allowed to ask questions about Gilbert or would that be pushing his luck?

He ran a hand through his hair. So much for trying not to worry…

* * *

><p>The morning went by quietly and uneventful. In the early afternoon Matthew's mother came home and he cooked lunch for the both of them. She ate in her room. Matthew stayed alone in the living room.<p>

Thinking about Gilbert and their conversation was starting to give him a head ache but he couldn't stop himself. Too many 'whys' and 'what-ifs' were running through his thoughts. He needed to clear his head somehow…

An idea formed in his mind.

Matthew quickly pushed it away – but it came right back.

In the past Matthew had told his brother everything. He and Alfred had always been together and there had never been any secrets between them. Matthew remembered so many nights they had spent talking about nothing and everything until the sun came up.

But then Al had moved away. He now lived in a mall apartment with two other students and it took two hours to get there by train.

With the sudden distance between them everything had changed. They had stopped talking every day. Sometimes Matthew wouldn't hear from his brother for several weeks. And even if they talked…their conversations had become…empty. No more secrets were shared, no worries were told. It wasn't like Al didn't care anymore but he was often too stressed to ask and Mathew didn't want to worry his brother with his problems. Al deserved better than that.

But still… Matthew starred at the display of his cell phone, at the number of his brother. He needed to figure out what he should do about Gilbert. And Alfred had always been the one he could turn to…

But did he really want to bother his brother with this? He was always so busy and Matthew certainly didn't want to annoy him…

He still pressed the call button and listened to the dial tone. After the fifth ring Alfred picked up. "Yeah?"

Normally hearing his brother's voice calmed Matthew. Gave him a sense of nostalgic security. But not this time. Nervously he played with a loose thread on the sleeve of his black hoody. "Um…hi, Al. It's me."

"Mattie! Long time no see – oh, well, hear" Alfred laughed. "How're you doing?"

"I'm fine" Matthew answered automatically. "What about you?"

"Great. I'm good – just a little busy. In fact I'm kinda in a hurry right now. I've gotta meet up with some classmates in half an hour to study for an exam and I still need to get something to eat."

"Oh…sorry for the bad timing then. But this won't take long. I just need…some advice."

"Advice?" Al repeated slowly and Matthew could picture the frown on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"No no. Don't worry. I'm asking for a friend. He has a problem and I'm not sure what to tell him." God, he hated lying to Alfred. But telling him the truth would include too many things Al shouldn't have to worry about. The problems of his pathetic, messed up brother shouldn't be his burden.

"Okay then. What's up with your friend?"

Now how to say it…? "He has just met somebody who wants to help him with…stuff. Bu he doesn't know if he can trust that someone since he doesn't know them yet."

"And what exactly is his problem then?" Al asked.

Matthew bit his lip. "He asked me whether or not he should trust that someone. What do you think?"

"Huh. It's obvious, isn't it? Your friend should take a risk once in a while or he'll miss something. If that other guy turns out to be no good or weird your friend can still tell him to back off when it comes to it."

"Okay. Thank you. I'll… let my friend know."

"You do that. I gotta dash or I'll miss my last chance for food. See you later, Mattie."

"Bye, Al." He hung up and frowned at the phone. 'Take a risk once in a while'?`

Fine.

He could do that.

* * *

><p>Matthew hadn't bothered to switch on the lights in his room. After his conversation with Alfred he had spent the rest of the day sitting on his bed, listening to some quiet music, while watching the last red sunshine fade into grey twilight and then become inky darkness.<p>

He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his head on his knees. Once again his eyes wandered to his phone beside him on the bed. He must have done so at least a hundred times in the last few hours.

He wasn't sure what time it was but it had to be close to the time Gilbert had called him yesterday. Why hadn't he called yes? Had he forgotten about it?

A thousand questions were running through his head, all of them at the same time, screaming so loudly that he could barely think anymore.

Matthew ran a shaky hand through his hair. He was nervous, his heart was racing. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't calm down. And his thoughts refused to shut up.

He had imagined so many different conversations, thought about what he could say to Gilbert, what the other could ask and now…

The ringtone of his phone cut through the jumbled mess of thoughts in his head like a knife. Matthew jumped and took the phone with trembling fingers. The screaming in his head had finally stopped. The only sound in the room was the ringing of the phone.

Matthew took a deep breath and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hi there, Matthew."

Matthew closed his eyes. It was the same voice as yesterday, the same accent. "You even remember my name…"

"Of course. I'm too awesome to forget." Gilbert replied with a quiet laugh. "So tell me, are you feeling any better today?"

"Define better." Matthew muttered. "I'm not on the roof tonight. Does that count as 'better'?"

"It's a start, I guess."

An awkward silence fell over them. Matthew nervously played with the sleeves of his hoody and hoped for Gilbert to say something. He'd forgotten everything he had wanted to ask when the phone had rang…

"Damn, this is weird…" Gilbert sighed. "Not because of you! But…um…it's just that I've been trying to figure out what to talk about with you all day and I've still got no idea what to say. So…how was your day?"

"My…day?" Out of all the questions he could have asked Gilbert had to choose the only one Matthew hadn't thought about. "Fine, I guess."

"That bad, huh? What did you do?"

"Not much. Mostly thinking" Matthew replied. 'About you' he added in his head but there was no way he'd ever say that out loud. "What about you?"

Gilbert sighed. "Nothing important. I wrote a new article for my school's magazine. That took like forever. And then – when I thought it couldn't get any worse – my cousin needed my help with choosing a suit for this concert. I thought I'd die of boredom!"

"A concert?"

"Yeah – more or less. My cousin plays the piano and he gets to play in our local church next Sunday. It's not really a big deal but he likes to think it is." Gilbert huffed. "He's a show off. That's all"

"I see." Matthew mumbled.

Once again they went quiet. Matthew bit his lip. A million questions were running through his head now but he didn't want to ask the wrong ones and scare Gilbert away. So Matthew kept silent.

Gilbert cleared his throat. "May I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"I was wondering about this ever since we hung up yesterday. Why did you answer the phone when I called?"

Matthew frowned. Why indeed. "I…don't really know? When you first called I thought it might be my brother or… I don't know. Someone else who knew and remembered me."

"Must have been a big disappointment when it was only me, huh?"

Matthew nodded even though the other couldn't see it. "I was…I thought the last person I'd ever talk to…" He trailed off, leaving the unfinished sentence hang in the air between them. "I didn't want to answer when you called again. 'What good would it do?' I thought. I even considered throwing the phone away for a second. But somehow…somehow I still hoped that it would make some kind of difference, you know?"

"And I hope it did. To be honest… I was almost sure you wouldn't pick up anymore today." Gilbert sighed.

"I didn't want to make you worry…Sorry."

"Don't apologize!" Gilbert almost snapped

Matthew flinched. "…Sorr-"

"No, no, no. Don't. I worry because I care, not because you did anything wrong. None of this is your fault, Matthew. If anyone should apologize it should be me, for not having more faith in you…"

Matthew almost laughed. "Don't. I wouldn't have faith in me either."

"Yeah, I noticed. We're gonna have to work on that."

_We_. A faint smile found its way onto Matthew's lips. There was a _we_ between them…

Now…to test the limits. "Can I ask you the same question? Why did you call?"

"I don't really know." Gilbert answered, repeating Matthew's earlier words. "I was trying to call a friend at first but you picked up instead. I could hear wind in the background and you sounded miserable… After I had hung up on you I just _knew_ that I shouldn't have. I didn't know what to do, cause I had no idea how to handle something like that. So… I just hoped you'd pick up again and that I wouldn't make everything worse."

Matthew hummed in response. "You didn't. Thank you."

"Anytime. Um…and by that I didn't mean that I'd call you anytime you stand on a roof, planning to…well you know what. I hope that will never be necessary again. I meant that I'd help you anytime you need me." Gilbert sighed. "You know what I mean. I hope."

Matthew lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "I know what you mean. But I don't quite understand it. Why do you say thing like that?"

"I just want to help. It's just… no one deserved to feel that way and if there is _anything_ I could do to make it better I'd like to try."

"And what do you think would make it better?" Matthew asked quietly.

Gilbert huffed. "Hell, if I knew… For now, let's just say I'll call you every day and we'll figure this out along the way. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Awesome. Now that that's settled, what are your hobbies?"

"Come again?"

"Oh come on. You've got to like doing something. And if I'm supposed to help you, I'll need to get to know you."

He did have a point. Matthew frowned lightly. What were his hobbies? Lately he didn't really enjoy doing anything. Everything seemed dull and meaningless… "I like listening to music, taking photos and watching hockey, I guess."

"What kind of photos?"

"Um mostly for the school at the moment. But normally I try to capture things or moments I'd like to remember. You know, a smile, a sunset…things that will never be exactly the same way again."

"That sounds pretty awesome. 'Capturing moments'. Like freezing time and putting it in a picture…" Gilbert trailed off.

"You write, don't you?"

"Yeah. I write articles for my school's magazine and sometimes short stories for myself. It helps me clear my head."

Matthew hummed softly in response.

"So…what's your favourite colour?" Gilbert asked.

Matthew felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. For some reason talking to Gilbert relaxed him. Took his mind of things… "Favourite colour? What are you trying to do there? Make a profile of me?"

"Maybe, you'll never know." Gilbert chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm just trying to figure you out. My favourite colour's blue by the way."

Matthew glanced at the cans of paint by the door. "Red, I think. But I kind of hate it too. It's complicated."

"What do you hate it?"

"Because it let me down." Matthew mumbled. Realizing how weird that probably sounded he added: "I expected the colour to have an effect but it hadn't. Never mind. It doesn't really matter."

"Okay if you say so. Do you have a favourite movie?"

They kept talking about trivial things for quite some time until both of their sentences were interrupted by yawns after every other word. Gilbert promised to call again the next evening and Matthew promised to be there to pick up. They said their goodbyes and Matthew hung up with a smile lingering on his lips.

This time, he didn't feel cold when the line went dead.


End file.
